


come lovely may

by Cicadaemon



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, I just really like Pierretasha ok, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13338261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cicadaemon/pseuds/Cicadaemon
Summary: Though the tune was not as smooth as it had been back then, Natasha clearly remembered singing along to Longing for Spring which she had done along with the other young people on her name day in 1805. The memory only seemed so clear as that was the day she first met Pierre, fresh from West Europe and recently temporarily banned from St. Petersburg.





	1. The Spring

The piano piece played clumsily. Pierre had approached Natasha one day, not long after their marriage asking if she could show him how to play. When they had started, Pierre had only known a haltering version of an ecossaise, but now the notes strung together more smoothly, though every so often he would pause to look at the sheet music; his fingers sometimes clumsily slipping off the keys.

Natasha sat on the couch in the drawing room, listening, when the tune seemed to bring back a memory. Though it was not as smooth as it had been back then, Natasha clearly remembered singing along to Longing for Spring which she had done along with the other young people on her name day in 1805. The memory only seemed so clear as that was the day she first met Pierre, fresh from West Europe and recently temporarily banned from St. Petersburg. She could remember her father laughing, with tears in his eyes, at the story of how Pierre and Dolokhov drunkenly strapped a policeman to a bear.

Caught up in the memory, she closed her eyes and found herself swaying to the somewhat steady notes and she hummed along. It seemed so long ago, she had been so naive back then, thinking herself immune to any true sadness. It had been one of the last times her family had been together proper. Wrapped in a happy thought of her family, Natasha found herself humming along as Pierre repeated the section over and over, before the humming become lyrics.

She got so lost in it all she never noticed the piano had stopped till she finished the song. She opened her eyes slowly and looked over to where Pierre sat. He looked at her with a soft smile on his face. Natasha found herself smiling back, noticing for the first time that little tears that were in her eyes.

“You're getting better,” She whispered. “Keep going and so will I.”


	2. Swimming

“Being in love with Andrei was like drowning,” Natasha spoke softly, nestled into Pierre's chest. “But in the best of ways. It wasn't that I was suffering, but rather it consumed me. I never got the chance to let my feelings cool off so that we grow more.”

There was no response, but the soft breaths. She wiggled her face more into him, enjoy the warmth of his body and duvet. He broke the silence quickly. “I understand what you mean. The feeling of too much.” He shifted in the bed. “Though I found myself submerged in more depressing feelings, but I understand.”

She sighed, “I've always thrown myself into love too much. I obsessed over Boris till he was gone and loved Andrei with every fibre of my being, but I've been to the extreme with it. Not that there's anything wrong with it.”

“I don't think there's anything wrong with it, I adore you for it.”

Natasha smiled at that. Her hand laid close to her face, and she could feel her husband's steady heartbeat with it. She could even hear it. There was something so calming about it, but she knew what her next words would be and they sent her own heart into a quick beat.

“Even with,” She paused, before whispering the name, “Anatole.” She cleared her throat, before continuing her thought at volume she had before. “That was something else. Not love. Never was it love. I was drowning and I thought I enjoyed that. I thought it was the same as Andrei, but it never was. I'm glad Sonya saved me. That you saved me.”

Silence. Nothing, but the steady beat of Pierre's heart.

“I think you saved yourself there,” His voice went soft. “You're stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“It was good to have you two there for me though.”

Pierre hummed in agreement. Silence returned, it was as comfortable as the bed they laid in. Natasha stared at the door as she had throughout the conversation and listened away to the heart beat, enjoying how her body moved too with every breath Pierre took. Finally he spoke again.

“What is it like now? The love you have for me?” There was something tight about his tone. Natasha pushed herself up to rest on on elbow, and look down at Pierre. He looked up with her with a neutral expression; no glasses on his face. The corner of her mouth twitched gently, before her lips formed a small smile.

“With you, I don't feel consumed. I feel like I can enjoy you as a friend, as a husband, and someone I can grow with.” She paused before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips which he returned. She pulled away just enough that she knew his nearsighted eyes could still make out her face clearly. “Keeping with the metaphor, I feel like I finally learned how to swim.”


	3. The summer of 1917

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This belonged first to my Generic 1920's AU but it belongs here better

The summer of 1917. Natasha had barely escaped with her life with Sonya’s help, who had disguised her. The train station had been so full. Anti-bourgeois talk was what led them to the train station in the first place. Pierre had an estate in France; they could escape to France. They had been dressed plainly and hope to board a train to Germany. Their four beautiful children were in Paris with Nikolai and Mary. They had been smart enough to send their children with them.

They had been so close and the last thing Natasha wanted to remember of her husband was the soft smile he gave her and how his soft brown eyes crinkled with the smile under his spectacles. They never the saw the young man with the gun. They heard the yelling, but not the gun. Someone screamed out the name they shared and chaos broke out. Sonya grabbed Natasha and pulled her away after Pierre told her to run. Natasha had tried her best to hold onto Pierre, but then a blast, then ringing. Her sense were muted as she watched the horror on her husband’s face as she pulled away. She tried to scream his name, but nothing came out. She just watched blood soak his shirt.

Then all was over. A blank. Sonya pulled her far and ran. Next thing Natasha knows she on some carriage as they cross the border.

“I’m so sorry,” Sonya whispered to her, tears swelled in her eyes, but Natasha saw nothing and did not respond. Her mind was blank. All she could see was the last smile. There was no doubt in her mind that her Pierre was gone. First Andrei now Pierre. The world was cruel.

When they finally made it to Paris, Natasha held her beautiful children who all had their father’s soft brown eyes wishing they had been smarter to leave earlier.


End file.
